


A Little Night Dancing

by EFJiswhatido



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EFJiswhatido/pseuds/EFJiswhatido
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inigo disturbs Gerome's nightly jaunt.  Gerome gets sucked into Inigo's hijinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Night Dancing

The night was clear and the moon was bright during Gerome’s nightly guard duty. Gerome would say that these patrols were to protect the camp, but they were primarily so that he could get time to himself and clear his head. Nights were quiet with everyone asleep, and serious danger was vanishly rare in this timeline. Tonight though, he heard a noise, a thud really, in the distance — followed by rustling leaves — and always the vigilant watchman, he halted and brandished his silver axe, looking for any sign of trouble.

Okay, so it probably wasn’t Risen, since they traveled in packs and there was only one sound, Perhaps one of his father’s traps caught a large animal? Perhaps it caught a person on the way to the outhouse...again.

When he heard the same thud again, he rushed toward it, and much to his surprise, he found Inigo, disarmed, lying in a crumpled heap.

“Gods, Inigo! Are you hurt?” Gerome dusted off his best friend and helped him to his feet.

“Ugh, I think so,” Inigo muttered.

“What the hell are you doing out here so late?”

“None of your business!”

Gerome peered at Inigo, seemingly without expression, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Inigo sighed. “Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“I was...practicing...you know...”

“Dancing, you mean?”

Inigo rolled his eyes. “Yes, Gerome. Dancing.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Well...aren’t you going to ask me anything else?”

“No.” The faintest hint of a smile flashed across Gerome’s face. He loved teasing Inigo like this.

Inigo glared at him, then clumsily resumed “practicing.” It seemed to Gerome that he was trying to kick a mosquito out of the air and dislocate both of his arms at the same time. Once Gerome was sure he wouldn’t burst out laughing, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Consider removing your satchel for added mobility,” he intoned. “I’ll guard it for you if you’d like.”

Inigo dutifully removed his satchel, holster, and pocket contents, and resumed leaping into the air like someone being attacked by bees.

Gerome adjusted his mask, as if to make sure his amused expression was sufficiently hidden. “Have you ever had a good stretch, like, at all? Ever?”

“Yes!” Inigo declared defiantly. “But perhaps not today.”

He heeded Gerome’s word’s yet again, using a tree to prop up one of his legs while he stretched a hamstring, then the other.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Gerome said, mildly exasperated. “Really lean into it.” He placed a hand on Inigo’s shoulder and pushed.

“Ow, quit it!”

“Sorry, but dancers must be flexible.”

“Ugh, why must you always be right?” Inigo said between gritted teeth as he leaned further over to intensify the stretch.

Gerome ignored his rhetorical question, nodding and studying his movements. “Get off that tree and touch your toes.”

Inigo looked up incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”

“How do you expect to dance with a battle-stiffened body?”

Inigo grumbled, but nonetheless, he bent over, wincing slightly as he draped his arms down toward his feet.

“Gods, you must be tense,” Gerome said, placing his hand between Inigo’s shoulder blades and nudging him ever closer to the ground, feeling his muscles though the thin fabric of his shirt. “...18...19...20...get up.”

“Yes, master,” Inigo snapped.

“Relax. Turn around.”

“Wha — oh.” Inigo fell silent as he felt Gerome’s strong hands kneading the knotted muscles in his shoulders.

Gerome worked his hands around Inigo’s upper back, then inched his way downward as he felt the tension melt away. First, down to the middle of his back, right around the ribcage. Then down to the small, pressing his thumbs against the back of Inigo’s narrow waist. He abruptly shifted his focus to the nape of his neck, Inigo’s dark brown hair tickling the top of his hands. He gently grasped Inigo’s forearms and spun him back around to face him.

Inigo was shocked to see Gerome’s face. It was just slightly pink under the moonlight, barely perceptible below the mask. He grinned slyly at what he thought must be a blush. “You’re quite smooth,” he half-joked. His arms were still in Gerome’s light grasp, and he did not move them.

“Mmm...maybe,” Gerome uttered, still holding onto Inigo, afraid to move and afraider still to give himself completely away just yet.

Inigo pulled back, so that he could clasp Gerome’s hands, and flashed a trademark smirk. “But I'm smoother.”

He pulled Gerome’s hands down to his waist — they stayed there, as he expected — and kissed him softly on the lips. He smiled, satisfied by Gerome’s wordless but bright pink reaction.

Gerome ran his hands over the smallest part of Inigo’s waist, over and over again, almost like he didn’t believe it was really there. Inigo’s body looked so slim and yet felt so muscular, and here he was touching it like it was his own... He wrapped his arms around Inigo and nuzzled into his neck, kissing him there, and kissing him across his collarbones. He drew his mouth up near Inigo’s ear and whispered...

“What kind of dance were you trying to do anyway?”

“REALLY, GEROME?!”

“Sssshhh sh sh sh!” Gerome shushed and laughed at the same time. “Come on now. We mustn’t wake the others.”

Inigo pouted petulantly, until he found himself pinned against the tree with Gerome’s fingers exploring underneath his shirt and his lips at his throat. Gerome was a lot more forceful than he looked.

“You know,” Inigo half-whispered. “I’m never going to learn this dance if you keep pawing at me like a love-struck village maiden.”

Gerome pulled away all at once. “Very well.”

“Um, I mean —“ Inigo stammered. The cold air where Gerome’s body had once been cut through him like a knife. “I could use an audience though!”

“And a coach too. Perhaps.”

Inigo blushed. He had no business keeping it cool anymore. “Yes, I think I’d like that quite a bit.”

Gerome smiled, a real smile, big enough not to be mistaken for anything else.

“And maybe...” Inigo grabbed Gerome’s hand. “...a partner someday?”

“Don’t push it,” Gerome said, pulling Inigo’s hand up to kiss it anyway.


End file.
